I got the date for my PIP assessment.
I got the date for my PIP assessment, today Wednesday the 14th of August.
If this had kicked off last year, I would have said, “That’s my Summer holiday thoroughly ruined”, but there is some stubborn-ness in me that refuses to give anyone that satisfaction. Just because I have to do this now, when we are supposed to be outside and tanning ourselves, having barbeques and swimming in the lake, does not mean I will descend into a worry fest. Why should I? I plan to have a great life, and that includes now, because what else matters, really, in the final analysis?
There is a great deal said these days about those who feel hard done by. And yes, for swathes of our poor, vulnerable and lonely citizens the system is really not working very well, it is stretched to breaking, and broken, in many places, badly patched. For many, many people the daily grind goes no-where near addressing their basic needs; and, since destitution is not something I shall have to face any time soon, I’m grateful, and intend to make the most of all my chances, today, tomorrow and every day.
But… – why is there always a but? – the rules in this particular system appear to be arbitrary, made up with no end in view except to further curtail the ability of those with mixed abilities, to participate. There is no real logic behind the “twenty metre rule” or the broad definition of “to mobilize”. I am informed by ATOS that someone is coming to my apartment today to see “how my disability affects me” – but really, that’s not it. They are coming to see how far I fall within parameters that they work to, and whether they think I am justified in getting additional help with my needs: all surprisingly subjective.
And that is particularly hard to explain when I find it hard to understand, when I am prone to saying, “I’m fine thanks!” even when I’m in a lot of pain and covered in mud; and when it pains me – with an almost physical ache – to enumerate the ways in which I find it difficult to do what I want to do. The gap between what I aspire to, and what I can reasonably manage is increasingly obvious, and makes me, on my bad days, want to – to end – this crux of compromising.
None of which is self pity. But there are shards of despair in there that I dare not look at too closely.
Thanks for reading.
Please share:
August 14, 2019 @ 4:45 pm
The unfairness of it is astounding. Seems as though the harder you try to make the most of your life within the restrictive parameters of different ability the more you are penalised. It is crazy that in this case saying to you. ‘You show em girl’ would actually have the opposite effect of what I am trying to say.
August 14, 2019 @ 6:21 pm
Thank you Diane, for reading and for commenting. It has been recognised, by several commissions, the ECHR etc, that it is impossible and contrary to personal dignity and possibly in breach of several planks of international law to require claimants to prove a negative; we all know that you can’t prove a negative. Making that policy, has an adverse impact in lots of ways – participation, mental health, employment. But that is the way the rules are currently set out, so we do our best. My assessor today was very kind, and listened to me. I don’t think it could have gone any better, really, so fingers crossed. 🙂
August 15, 2019 @ 8:39 pm
Fran, I’m so happy to hear your assessor was kind and knew how to listen to you! What a relief that you weren’t subjected to having to prove the unprovable. I’d say I’m keeping my fingers crossed for you, but that would be a bit difficult right now because I’m clapping my hands in honor of your persistence, honesty and good-will posture even when it takes a while to get there! 🙂
August 16, 2019 @ 4:28 pm
Hi Elouise,
I was very lucky. The questions I was asked, I could answer honestly, and my assessor actually listened to what I said. So whatever happens next, i’m quite resigned to it. As my husband’s mother used to say – tongue in cheek – “When one door closes, another door shuts…!” which is along the lines of “Two for the price of ten” and other little gems with which Isobel lit up her life. Bless you!